


More Than Just Some IT Girl

by jedichick04



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Missing Moments, alternate POV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-02 07:52:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4052245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedichick04/pseuds/jedichick04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity Smoak didn't plan on being a hero. She was content with her life as an IT girl. But one day, Oliver Queen stepped into her office, and her life was never the same.</p>
<p>A series of one shots from Felicity's POV, following her journey through all three seasons of Arrow. Inspired by the Arrow Summer Rewatch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bullet Holes (1x03 Lone Gunmen)

**Author's Note:**

> Title and inspiration comes from this Felicity quote: “If I had accepted my life...I never would have believed some crazy guy in a hood when he told me I could be more than just some IT girl.” ~Felicity Smoak, 2x21 City of Blood
> 
> My goal at this point is to update once a week, with a one shot related to an episode from that week of the Arrow Summer Rewatch (which is going on over on Tumblr). Depending on what inspiration strikes, there may be more than one in a week. As this goes on, if there's a particular moment you want to see tackled, let me know.

If ever there was a day for a nice glass of red wine after work, it was today.

Felicity thought that it was going to be a good day, what with her idiot supervisor preoccupied with setting up some new computers for some of the upper management of QC. She always found it easier to work when her supervisor wasn’t lurking around and asking her ridiculous questions. So she had been getting things done quickly, and it was as she was absently chewing on her pen that the day suddenly veered into the need for wine.

The incredibly gorgeous (much more-so in real life than in any pictures or news clips she’d seen) Oliver Queen had stepped into her little cubicle of the IT world. He’d been all polite in a genuine way, and actually introduced himself to her like he had needed an introduction. She had been so thrown by the whole thing--and the way his blue eyes were bluer than really should be humanly possible--that she’d made an idiot of herself, and unnecessarily reminded him that his father had drowned and he hadn’t.

But that hadn’t been the craziest part.

Because Oliver Queen, for all the stories she had seen over the years, about how charming he was and the playboy he was, had proceeded to tell her one of the worst lies she had ever heard in her life.

She didn’t know if the people in his life were typically so charmed by his bright blue eyes and unnaturally good looks that they didn’t pay attention to what he said, or if he was just so out of practice lying after the whole being stuck on an island in the North China Sea for five years--because really, who was he going to lie to, a coconut?--but he’d claimed that he had spilled a latte on his laptop and needed help getting information off of it.

A laptop that showed no signs of being damaged by a hot liquid, but every sign of being shot up with _bullet holes_.

Felicity was calling him on his crap lie before she even thought it through. Because yes, he was the stepson of the CEO, and his name was on the building, but just what kind of idiot did he think she was? She didn't even hold back on the look she shot him when he responded with an even lamer excuse. And then something strange happened. As she tilted her head and stared at him, Oliver cracked a smile. It was so genuine, not the playboy smile she’d seen on the old news clips that had been playing since he’d been found. Between the smile and his request to see if she could possibly salvage anything off the (clearly dead) computer, she found herself gesturing to a spare chair as she took the laptop and began to hook it up to her computer. Despite his blatant lies, there was something that made her trust him just enough to help him anyways.

She got to work right away, not immediately noticing how close he'd pulled the chair until she successfully coaxed the murdered laptop to respond. She stopped herself from raising her fist in the air in triumph, just barely. She snuck a glance at Oliver, which she regretted immediately because his bright blue eyes were watching her intently. Felicity forced herself to take a deep breath and focused back on the computer, pulling up the first thing she could on the computer--blueprints.

Oliver had thankfully shifted his gaze to the computer as she told him what she’d found. Her suspicions that this _wasn’t_ even his computer grew as she explained to him the connection between the blueprints and the upcoming auction for Unidac industries, the same company Oliver’s stepfather was interested in buying. But instead of keeping that to herself like she _should_ have done, she once again called him on his lie. And then, because her brain couldn’t quit while it was ahead, and apparently her babbling only got worse when Oliver Queen invaded her personal space and looked at computer screens with puzzled blue eyes, she made a pretty awesome Shakespeare reference. _Hamlet_ hadn’t been her favorite Shakespeare play, but the comparisons were pretty apt. Only the awesome reference was totally lost on Oliver, who looked even more confused even as Felicity spelled it out for him. It was probably inappropriate to want to laugh that Oliver Queen was confessing he’d dropped out of four schools and never studied Shakespeare, right?

Oliver didn’t stick around too much longer, after dropping a name that Felicity tucked away in her brain to research later. He took the laptop with him, but he was again earnestly sincere as he thanked her for her help with pulling the information. “You really were the right person to come and see,” he told her as he was leaving. “Thank you, Felicity.”

And then the charming, handsome playboy billionaire swept on out of her office, leaving her to replay their conversation in her head. That was the point she decided she was going to need lots of wine. Because had she seriously reminded gorgeous Oliver Queen that his father had drowned and compared Oliver to Hamlet? It was just as well she would never see him again.. Her brain thought of the _worst_ way to say things…

Felicity never got around to the bottle of red wine that night. But a few nights later, when she had finally taken the time to enjoy said glass of her favorite cheap wine, she nearly spilled the glass as breaking news interrupted her TV show. There had been some sort of sniper taking out people at the Exchange Building. The same building whose blueprints had been on the computer Oliver had brought her. The news was quick to report that Walter Steele, among other important businessmen, was alive and well. But the coincidence and timing of the information on the laptop, and the attack on the building made Felicity wonder…

Just how had Oliver Queen come across a bullet ridden laptop that had some kind of connection to a sniper?

And just what had she gotten herself into by agreeing to help him? 


	2. Call Me...Maybe? (1x06 Legacies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instantly, she knew--she would definitely need another glass of wine tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the delay on this part. Work has been crazy the last two weeks, and my muse doesn't deal well with stress. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Credit to smoakmonster for the phone number idea, and to flailykermit for pointing out Felicity's different office in 1x09. And a HUGE thanks to mrsd923 for looking this over and giving me valuable feedback and the best title ever. Enjoy!

Felicity hadn’t heard from or seen Oliver Queen since that fateful day a few weeks ago, which was just as well. It was still bothering her that Oliver had brought her a bullet ridden laptop a few days before a sniper shot up the auction held in the same building that had been in blueprint form on the laptop. That wasn’t even touching the fact that Oliver Queen was ten times more gorgeous in person than in any picture, or the way she still remembered the little smile that had formed after she questioned his ridiculous excuse. But Felicity had other mysteries to unravel, mysteries that the CEO himself wanted her to tackle. (And he hadn’t been too put off by her babbling getting away from her, which was kind of a miracle in and of itself.)

She’d kept track of the news, as always, and it _was_ big news when Oliver was arrested as the Starling City Vigilante. Felicity kept digging into the money trail, even though Walter was out of the country and he hadn’t asked her to keep going--but there was something that felt hinky about the whole thing, and if there was one thing Felicity had learned, it was to trust her gut.

As if she didn't have enough to juggle, her grumpy and idiotic supervisor announced they were moving the department to a different floor. Apparently, they were going from an open floor plan to more private offices, and it needed to happen ASAP. (Of course it did, because why would management bother to tell people in advance about something like that?)

All in all, it had been a crazy few weeks, so when Felicity got a call from the CEO’s EA to come up to the 39th floor, she grabbed her laptop and the information she had gathered so far and went to meet Walter Steele and all his respectable Britishness.

But it wasn’t Walter Steele waiting in the CEO's office. It was Oliver Queen, very much not a convict anymore, and his hulking bodyguard. Instantly, she knew--she would definitely need another glass of wine tonight. Apparently Oliver had never heard of Google or a smartphone--which seemed weird for a billionaire, because didn’t they always have to get the newest and shiniest things?--and Oliver had also apparently decided she was better than learning for himself. So as she settled in on the sofa in the CEO's office, her frustration about not overseeing the move of her desk might have come out and once again she embarrassed herself in front of Oliver Queen.

At least his bodyguard seemed to find it amusing.

And Oliver simply gave a little shake of his head--did she just see a hint of a _smirk_?--at her comment about being his personal Internet researcher. He didn't get angry or deny it, so she seized the opportunity to not totally embarrass herself because of her runaway mouth and added, "Happily, I mean."

Oliver just shook his head again and proceeded to tell her why he was there. Felicity felt more in her element as she pulled up what little information she could on Derek Reston on her laptop, and as a result she teased Oliver about not having Facebook on the island. When Oliver shot her another confused look--seriously, did the man have an allergy to _all_ technology?--Felicity was surprised to hear another voice quip about not having MySpace on the island, either. She looked up and met Oliver's bodyguard’s easy smile with one of her own. He hadn’t spoken up before now, which she assumed was a part of his role--based purely on what she’d seen of bodyguards in movies and TV shows.

But with the smirk the bodyguard threw at Oliver, and the conspiratorial grin he shot at Felicity, she felt like she’d found a long lost partner in crime.

Oliver’s request was very straightforward, if a bit odd. It only got odder as Oliver basically gave away that he didn’t _really_ know the guy Felicity was looking up. Oliver barely tried to cover it up. Felicity wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or flattered--that either he knew his lines wouldn’t work on her, or he thought so little of her intelligence he didn’t bother.

It didn’t take very long until she’d given Oliver all the information she could on Derek Reston. She expected Oliver to take the information and run, but after she’d passed him what she’d written down, he tipped his head at her and smiled. And that smile should be _illegal_ , because the way his blue eyes lit up and his face looked younger--

She could feel herself blushing, and she hardly knew the man.

“Thank you, Felicity,” Oliver told her, still keeping his gaze on hers. “You’ve been a big help.” He leaned in a little towards the table in between them, and Felicity’s eyes were drawn down as he wrote something on a piece of paper, then straightened up and extended it to her. She took the paper automatically, glancing down to see surprisingly beautiful penmanship. She was just realizing what was written in said handwriting as Oliver cleared his throat and said, “In case you come across any other information--that’s my personal cell number.”

“Oh,” was all Felicity said, because for once in her life--she had no words. Her brain was stuck on the fact that _Oliver Queen_ had just casually given her his _phone number_. This was the sort of thing other girls would kill for, and yes it was just in case she could help him more but--

“I probably shouldn’t keep you any longer,” Oliver interrupted her thoughts as he stood up. Felicity momentarily worried that she’d accidentally babbled out loud (that had happened to her before, more than once, actually) but Oliver gave no indication he’d heard her rambling internal monologue. His bodyguard moved silently to join him, and Felicity would swear he was eying Oliver with a smirk. “I’m sure the IT department is lost without you.”

“That, or they’ve completely bungled moving my desk,” Felicity commented. “IT Department’s moving,” she added off Oliver’s raised eyebrow. She wasn’t sure what possessed her as she playfully teased, “So next time you need my help on a Google search, you’ll have to track me down in my new spot.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Oliver replied, his lips quirking in another almost smile. “Good luck with the move.”

“And good luck with your friend,” Felicity returned, gathering her laptop and moving towards the office door. “It was nice to meet you, Mr…” Felicity trailed off, because Oliver hadn’t exactly introduced them. Was a bodyguard someone you were supposed to be introduced to? Or were they supposed to remain nameless and invisible?

“Diggle,” the bodyguard in question supplied, giving her a nod and mercifully ending her mental ramblings. “But you can call me Digg.”

Felicity smiled widely at Mr. Diggle--Digg. “And I’m Felicity Smoak. I don’t have a nickname. At least not one that I like. So you can call me Felicity.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Felicity,” Digg said, mercifully stopping her from babbling any more. He glanced at Oliver and said pointedly, “We should get you to your next appointment, Mr. Queen.”

“Right,” Oliver replied, nodding to the paper still in Felicity’s hand. “Call me if anything else pops up.”

And he disappeared into the elevator with Digg, leaving her flustered once more and wondering just what it meant that she had Oliver Queen’s cell phone number in her possession--and questioning just what kind of business the ridiculously hot billionaire had with one Derek Reston.


End file.
